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Showing posts from May, 2020

Lady of the Night

As told by Mercy at Deadmen Tales . Standing she walks gracefully towards the fire and holds her hands out near the flames but felt no heat. She looked around at everybody. “This is not silly pirate story or a story about kings and queens or royal fleets. This story is about the Lady of the Night. First let me begin with what I am now. For you will have a better understanding when I tell you how I became what I am today.” He gripped my arm, it tempered me, and interrupted me pulling up the black stockings I wore a few hours ago. He squeezed hard; I could feel it through my thin arm to my bone. I stopped with my stocking as he glared at me, afflicted, his mouth opened, but the noise was silent aside from a struggling inhale of high-pitched grunts. His eyes glazed, and they pleaded for me to save him from me. That I couldn’t do, but I gave him what he needed, to be noticed by me, and so I waited with him as the last of his blood pulsed from his neck, soaking the pillow and

The Pirates Ring

As told by Bosun Graybeard at Deadmen Tales . In a weathered little house by the sea, there once lived a man who loved to search for treasure on the sandy shore. Each morning he would take a bag and a shovel and set out to see what he could find. Often there were coins. Sometimes he would uncover something more valuable, like a piece of lost jewelry. One fine day there was a money clip that still had two pound notes folded neatly in its clasp. But the finest thing he ever found, the most rare and valuable thing, was the pirates ring. It might have made him a wealthy man, yet he never regretted what he did with it. What he did was throw it back into the ocean. The man found the ring on a calm bright morning, right after a big storm. There were often interesting things littering the beach after a stormy night, so he had been highly enthusiastic when he set out on his scavenging mission. There might be some unusual driftwood, he thought to himself. And surely some shells for

The True Story of the Jackaranda Tree on Barbados

As told by Anie Kaiabi at Deadmen Tales .  I pursued the last circuit of my voyage, plundering two months in Barbados with nothing much to show, a few small vessels and barks, but little of value in them. So I stood away to port in the north island where I learned of the return of the great Kaiabi chief’s daughter, on a flotilla of three ships. This was a booty worth watching for, my men and I waited, with great patience, for we knew the prize would be immensely rich. At length we spied two ships coming right up to us with the wind. We could easily see they were not Europeans by their sails and began to prepare ourselves for a prize, not for a fight; but were a little disappointed when we found the first ship filled with guns and gunners. Accordingly when we came near them we fired a gun with shot as a challenge. They fired again three or four guns, but fired them so confusedly we could easily see they could not understand their business. In a word, we presently took

A Tale of Love and Trust Betrayed

By Mary Pope Osborne, as told by Shadow at Deadmen Tales .  Once upon a time, a French count and his son went on a boar hunt. Near nightfall, the two stopped to light a fire in the woods. As they were warming themselves, a wild boar charged out from behind the trees. The count's son, Raymond, immediately drew his sword and struck the beast. But the blade glanced off the boar and stabbed the count instead. Raymond cried out in horror and rushed to the aid of his father. But it was too late; the count was dead. Raymond wept with sorrow. Not only did he mourn the death of his father, but he also feared that his younger brothers would accuse him of murdering the count, for they were jealous of the inheritance that would be coming to Raymond when his father died. In grief and despair, Raymond mounted his horse and fled the scene. Soon he came to a moonlit glade. A fountain bubbled in the middle of the glade. Its silvery waters flowed over the pebbly ground and arou

Th' ballad o' th' brig Blue Bird o' Hull

  As told by: Bosun Greybeard for Stacy at Deadmen Tales .  'twas Blue Bird o' Hull 'twas Blue Bird, a brig that wit' tied down sails endured a blizzardy Soten wit' ice covered mast on Christmas eve seventy-two "Tie th' Swede t' th' rudder, he can steer through th' storm." howled th' cap'n: "All right lads, take o'er!" 'n Karl Stranne from Smögen was tied t' th' rudder on Blue Bird that was destined t' sink. Saw Hållö's lighthouse afar but from snowfall 'n splash he stood half blind. Still held th' ship steady. 'n in lee thar was Smögen, his galleon where his mother jus' received his letter from Middlesbrough. "Well, wha' say ye, Karl? Will she make it?" "No, cap'n! Light th' flares, fer it ends here. We 'ave Hållö o' starboard, 'n waves are breakin' right ahead." Lower th' anchors, ready th' boats!" But she ro

The Tavern

As told by Bosun Greybeard at Deadmen Tales .  The year was 1690, a rather uneventful year unless you were King James II, sometimes known to the Irish unflatteringly as Seamus a' Chaca. Nestled close to the harbor was an ancient building known simply as The Tavern. Built of cheap whitewashed brick and salvaged wood from shipwrecks, tiny opaque windows letting in just enough light to cast shadows across the creaky wooden planked floor. Inside, the air was thick and heavy of cigar smoke, spilt rum, and unwashed bodies, dimly lit by a few flickering candles placed on the worn tables. Casks of wine and ale were stacked behind the bar, along with bottles of rum and whiskey. Just before dusk the crew of the 100 gun 1st rate ship of the line HMS Royal James began arriving, pushing and shoving their way inside the small tavern, eager for drinking, glad to be off the ship for a while. They had been out to sea for nearly a year, and had been successful in capturing or sinking

In Memorium

In Memorium of VT (Votarn Torvalar). a great Pirate and friend to all. We invite all his friends to share their memories and stories.

Black Bartelmy's Ghost

As told by Pabo at Bosun's Deadmen Tales . Black Bartelmy was an evil, surly buccaneer who murdered his wife and children and went to sea with a band of pirates as nasty as he. He roamed the Atlantic coast, murdering and pillaging and laying waste to the countryside as he passed. By the time he approached Cape Forchu in Nova Scotia, Black Bartelmy had a ship loaded with treasure; five hundred chests had he full of gold and jewels and goblets and mighty swords. A thick Fundy fog lay over the bay as the ship approached, and the treacherous Fundy tide soon took hold of the evil man's ship. The crashing, churning waters of the Roaring Bull, that dangerous ledge of rocks near Cape Forchu, took the pirates ship and smashed its hull. But Captain Bartelmy spotted land to the starboard side of the ship. He and his trusted mate Ben the Hook had the crew load up the escape boat with every treasure chest they could fit. Then the bold pirate had his first mate murder the othe

The Curse of Sweeney's Bear

As told by Stacy at Bosun's Deadmen Tales . Tom Sweeney was a pirate. Not a pirate captain, or particularly fierce. He was just a sailor who preferred the life of a buccaneer and enjoyed the company of hard drinking ruffians! He had seen plenty of action over the years, including the experience of being with Henry Morgan at the Siege of Maracaibo. It was said that Sweeney was born of gypsy stock, although no one knew for sure. Even Sweeney himself did not know exactly where he was born! The one thing that made Sweeney stand out from the rest of his shipmates, was the bear. The bear had been with him for about fifteen years. He said that he had won it in a game of ‘shove ha’penny’ when it was a cub. But now, fifteen years on, it was a fully-grown Russian Black Bear standing eight feet tall on its hind legs! Sweeney took it everywhere and it was said that the bear could down a jug of ale with the best of them! The bear was devoted to Sweeney and he to it. They were ins

Born into a Hard Life, a Riddle

  As told by Anie at Bosun's Deadmen Tales . I was born into a hard life in dear England. Me father and brother did pass from the fever and me penniless mum did try her best. I was a wily chile and did scheme t' keep the family in food. But I had a taste for adventure. The sea was me siren. A borrowed letter and some copper won me a position as a soldier for the Crown. But I had bigger dreams and sailed as hired muscle. The coins rolled into me purse. Bout 10 years ago pirates swarmed me boss' ship. They pirates were a keen band, I did see souls like me own. I followed this band and did learn their leader was a hunched and fearful wreck named Cpt. John Rackham. Boarding Calico Jack's ship was to breathe free. All were skilled sailor with a ken for the borrowed coin. We did plunder many a cargo run. Even Jack's woman was a fierce fighter named Anne. Heady days and rum soaked nights. On an October day in Jamaica way the damned pirate hunters did boa

A Thief's Punishment

  As told by: Bosun Greybeard at Bosun's Deadmen Tales .  NOTE: Every so many moons old salt Bosun Graybeard sails into Pirates Destiny and holds his evenings of storytelling. Tales of great conquest, of sad endings and new beginnings, all by the enchanted campfire in the fog of the island. We've gathered a few of them here. Bosun has since sailed out for an adventure, but he will likely return. Keep your eye on the horizon for the tales to resume.     I was found guilty of theft, one of the worst offenses aboard a ship. Never mind it was just half of a lime. I had been suffering from scurvy and was desperate. The captain had caught me red handed and drug me before the crew to sentence me. A unanimous guilty and I was flung into the longboat and dumped unceremoniously onto a sand-spit with nothing more than a wine-skin of slimy bilge water and the captains personal dragoon with one shot left in it. A cruel joke at best. I had begged the captain to let me have a quill